


He’s Got the Moves like Batman…

by AncientCovenants



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Athos is the original Batman, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AncientCovenants/pseuds/AncientCovenants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis has speed, Porthos has strength and Athos has *stealth*. Sometimes TOO much stealth where just about everyone else is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He’s Got the Moves like Batman…

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, Athos is a "stealthy shadow lurker who has the ability to silently materialise out of nowhere".  
> In other words, he's Batman in 17th century France. Hence, the title. I regret nothing…
> 
> Prompt fill: http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1213.html?thread=2318781#cmt2318781

The Musketeers were the best of the best; anyone who didn’t pass muster could apply for a job as a Red Guard.

So something as simple as being outnumbered [at a minimum of 3:1, by Athos' estimation] in close quarters [i.e. a barn being used as a storage shed, with boxes of stuff _everywhere_ ] without having the element of surprise on their side [they had been chased into said barn and hadn’t the time to conceal themselves to their advantage] was hardly anything to bat an eye at.

Adrenaline sang in their veins as they dispatched their foes and before long they found themselves with barely even a handful of rogues left to deal with. Athos, crafty bugger that he was, upon finishing his most recent opponent and noting that there was but one left in his general vicinity, decided to prolong his fun and ducked behind a tall tower of containers. Navigating around the obstacles, he rounded his adversary and paused in the shadows behind the man.

The man in question looked at the battles before him, one with a powerful behemoth the other with a wily fox, wondering whether he should join in… or run and hide.

Settling on the latter, he turned on his heel and, before he could take a step, Athos made his move.

Slowly stepping out of the shadows he moved with quiet precision, a predator ready to pounce upon his… prey?

Athos stopped his advance and straightened, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Surely the look on his face couldn’t have been so terrifying as to make the man…

Faint.

And yet there he lay in a crumpled heap, before Athos could even lay a finger on him, and with no sign of injury otherwise.

Athos frowned…

He most certainly did not _pout_ …

So much for having a little fun.

Of his brothers, Aramis finished his rival off first and, noting that Porthos needed no help in doing the same to the two set against him, he turned then to Athos and cocked his head to the side noticing the _not-pouting_ look on his brother’s face.

Eyes sharp as an eagle’s he took in everything about the scene as he made his way towards him… and stopped.

Athos groaned internally as Aramis pulled his mouth first into a smirk and then a grin as wide as France itself.

He really didn’t even know why he bothered saying then, _“Not a word.”_

To his credit, Aramis _did_ valiantly try to hold back his laughter, the odd snicker here and there being the only indication that he did indeed find this whole thing hilarious.

Athos not-pouted even more.

Concluding the scrap with his challengers, Porthos looked to his brothers who were standing about, Athos with frown—or maybe more like a pout [he’d seen that look on some children in the court when they didn’t get their way]—and, from what he could make out, Aramis with a gloved hand to his mouth.

It was… _odd._

So he made his way over to them with an, “Everything all right?” which—unbeknownst to him—had Athos groaning all over again.

Aramis pointed at the man before Athos and turned to him with a sombre look that nowhere near reached his eyes.

“He fainted.”

Porthos paused.

He looked at the fallen heap on the floor.

He didn’t appear to be visibly injured so why would he—

He looked up at Athos to confirm his suspicion.

He couldn’t have seriously—

He looked at the mass on the floor.

—and yet, here was the proof, lying right in front of him.

Another victim of one of Athos’ absurdly silent sneak attacks.

Only this reaction was… _new._

And yet…

He couldn’t say he was really surprised.

It was really only a matter of time, he supposed.

“Huh.”

Nope, not surprising at all.

Porthos merely nodded his head in acceptance and left them to find his main gauche somewhere in the aftermath of the fray.

And just like that the dam on Aramis’ laughter broke and Athos couldn’t help but smile with him.


End file.
